


Chilling Details

by AdoringAddictions



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dawnguard, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feuds, Hate, Love, POV Third Person, Romace, Vampires, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:41:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdoringAddictions/pseuds/AdoringAddictions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drasina's (Dra-seen-a) ancestors dated back to the Merethic Era, when the Snow Elves were at their most prosperous state and just as the betrayed slaughtered almost every single Snow elf in existence.. Almost. Some of Drasina's ancestors were able to flee the Forgotten Vale and go into hiding, just off the coast of Alinor, where they met allies and were able to live peacefully. Now, Drasina is curious of her family's past and finds herself back in skyrim, only to be caught in an ambush that nearly ends her life. When in only seeking the past of her family she is burdened with a title given to her by Auri-El himself,  and with it she finds love in a man who was saved by a dragon, and adventure in her quest to find the Forgotten Vale and see her serpent saviour dead.</p><p> </p><p>Sorry to say but this book is on hold. I have some ideas to really make this story ten times better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prisioner of War

URL for Image: <https://goo.gl/8jpEdG>)

 

Skyrim was cold on this very day, much like any other day, but this distinct chill ran through the bones of the Jarl of Windhelm. He was uneasy, and felt defeated, but the chill was coming off the women who started this all. At the beginning of the day the Jarl and his soldiers were on their way back to Windhelm, and set up camp at darkwater crossing. As the sun set, this woman, just a bit shorter than an average nord female and as slender as an elf, maneuvered herself toward the camp, avoiding the steaming pools of water, on set by volcanic activity. Her steps were well calculated and graceful, but the Jarl couldn't help but notice the glint of the golden elven sword attached to her hip. The soldiers drew their swords when they saw her too, but she surrendered immediately, both hands in the air and a facial expression of a deer, caught in the path of an arrow.

"Oh I'm sorry!" Her posh accent came out in a quiet squeak, "I didn't mean to intrude, I saw the fire and was hoping for hospitality." She shrunk sheepishly in her boots, which were made of a light tan leather than clung to her darker leather clad legs. 

"Sheathe your weapons men, she's harmless." The jarl chuckled, as his war axe found it's way back to his hip. "Where are you from, elf?" He asked her, seeing her pale pointed ears with a golden piercing on top, just poking out of her black hair.

"Alinor, but my family dates back to early Skyrim." She answered, finally lowering her hands. She didn't hold the same fear in her eyes, and if it were one or two men, she wouldn't have in the first place, but this was 13 men, and even with her trained arm she would have surely perished.

"Home to the thalmor." He grumbled, his men spit on the ground simultaneously, she swallowed hard, remembering that currently the Thalmor were enemies to the Nord-Folk. She thanked Auri-El she was not a High Elf.

"Yes but, I am no Thalmor. They are a... egotistical people, if I may say so myself. I am a Snow elf or an Ancient Falmer. I have no like for the High Elves." She spoke quickly, trying to relate to the important man before he did anything irrational. The last thing she wanted was to be killed before she even got to see the land her Ancestors flourished in.

The Jarl of Windhelm fell into surprise,  _Snow Elf?,_ he thought,  _I thought they went extinct years ago._ He looked at her with a furrowed brow, though pleased with her thought about the thalmor, he was left as odds about her sudden appearance. She must have just arrived, as there would be rumors and widespread word that a Snow Elf has returned to Skyrim had she been there for at least a month. But here she is in front of the Stormcloaks, probably the first in the province to see her arrival, and even if the elves were vile creatures and had no place in skyrim, Ulfric Stormcloak allowed her to stay. She made camp further away from the men, her way of not intruding, but ulfric's gaze still landed upon the white flesh of her face and how she was completely unfazed by the cold weather. Nords were a hardy people, but they still felt the chill of the winter air every once and while, and the longer the Jarl stared at her, the chill was much more noticeable. Though he didn't think it just yet, this chill was not on set by the cold skyrim weather, but by her attendance at his camp. 

As it was dark was finally upon them, her small tent was pitched and her fire was ablaze, and she just sat there, staring at the moons and stars. Some of the men noticed how her chilling blue eyes were illuminated by the orange flames. Her backpack was rested up against her tent along with fur's, assumed to provide extra warmth from the cold night, but she didn't look relaxed. No, her head would simply jerk at every rustle of the bush or tree, Ulfric chuckled at this,  _the poor lass was afraid of the dark!_ Yet his own laughter stopped at the sound of a horse gallop. All of the men, and the Elf rose to their feet, unsheathing their weapons at the noises. 

As the sound died down they all sheathed at the same time, but the whoosh of an arrow had the men frozen, and then frantic as it pierced the eye of one of the soldiers. Everything happened so fast, the clashing sounds of swords and arrows piercing armour quickly filled the area and when the stormcloaks were finally down to seven men, Ulfric finally felt defeated, no imperials died, and he felt ashamed. "Drop your weapons, No more men die today!" He called and his men halted. They were tied and dragged to the imperial prisoner wagons about a mile away from the camp, Ulfric didn't even notice what had happened to the elf, until her unconscious body was thrown in the same wagon he was thrown into. The difference was that she was now dressed in ragged clothing, and likely hanging onto life by a thread. 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. By Auriel! A Dragon!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric finally learns the Snow Elf's name, but only under the circumstance that the Imperials were about to kill them all... Or at least they thought.

URL of Image: <http://goo.gl/07Ssl4>

 

 

  
The chill had never ceased. That unconscious woman leaning against his shoulder currently was sending chills through his body, but he will never admit that he liked it. He hated that he got her involved. She was just an innocent woman, making her way through Skyrim most likely very unaware of the war. He shouldn't have let her camp with them. He knew she was safe from his men, since none of them would ever think of touching an elf, but he didn't count on an Imperial ambush. Now here they were, prisoners of war and surely to be sent to death. He prayed to Talos that he let her live, he hoped that being the last Snow Elf she would be preserved. He didn't much care for elves, but he also didn't much care for falsely accusing one for another man's crimes.

Just outside of Helgen she began to stir, soft murmurs escaping with each slow breath, then finally her eyes fluttered open and squinted at the sun. She sat up, and when the Jarl of Windhelm expected her to whimper and cry like a child, she just looked around slowly, catching Ralof's attention. Ulfric did not see fear in her eyes, no instead he saw curiosity, she was wondering, but he didn't know what about.

"Hey, you, Elf. You're finally awake." Ralof spoke suddenly, causing her head to jerk in his direction, she looked at him a moment, until a small smile formed on her lips. This confused everyone.

"Well aren't you observant." Her coy attitude towards the situation had the three men slightly shocked, but perhaps she didn't know that in a few short moments she could be the next innocent victim taken by the imperials.

The elf however did know what might occur on this day, she didn't know much of the war happening here. Without thinking twice she knew what side she would be on, had she ever needed to make the choice. These Stormcloaks were gracious enough to not kill her themselves and allow her camp within theirs, though they didn't speak to her, or ask about her history, she was grateful. Sure if she didn't camp with the Stormcloaks she wouldn't be in this situation, but still if she were not an elf and didn't have more important goals, she would ask to enlist at this moment.

Ralof and the man beside him argued about death. The other man was a horse thief, who was caught about the same time as the stormcloaks, he blamed the Stormcloaks for his arrest, claiming if it weren't for this damned war he could have been halfway to Hammerfell, he even tried to relate to the Elf, explaining that neither of them should be here.

"Auriel has me here for a reason, if it's my time, then it's because he needs me," She replied softly.

 

The wagon was silent for a few moments, until they were at the gates of Helgen. While the horse thief prayed and whimpered, Ralof reminisced. The elf smiled as he talked about a girl he was sweet on from here, and the juniper berry mead he'd spent most his teenage years getting drunk off. Ulfric, being gagged couldn't say much, but he didn't really pay much attention to anyone but the Elf. If he were to go to Sovngarde this day, so be it, it was the life of the elf he feared for the most. When the wagon stopped, she didn't so much a flinch. As the names were called one by one she didn't quake in her boots or cry like the horse thief. In fact Ulfric heard her whisper 'stupid boy' when the thief tried to make a run for it, it inevitably cost him his life.

"Who are you?" Asked the Imperial next to the captain. Ulfric found himself turning his body to hear her correctly, as he did not get to hear her name at any time before.

"Drasina Nallron, I come from Alinor." She answered. The Imperial gave his list a once over once more and looked at his captain.

"Captain, she isn't on the list." He said, showing her the list, but she ignored it.

"Forget the list, she goes to the block." The captain gave a hard glare at the Elf, who frowned and wanted to protest, but she was pushed to the line instead. She glared daggers at the Imperial captain the whole time, Ignoring the reading of the final rights, or the Stormcloak soldier volunteering to go first, or the thalmor agents staring at her with familiarity. Snow elves hiding out in Alinor were the thalmor's best kept secret, how on nirn was their one in skyrim?

"Next the Wood elf in the rags!" The Imperial captain called out, and Drasina was appalled. Wood Elf? I am far to pale too be a wood elf! She thought, but walked to the block anyway, stopping in front of the captain, gritting her teeth together and then spitting on the Captain's shoes. The Stormcloaks chuckled, but it got the elf pushed violently to the ground, and her head perfectly lined up for the block.

"Auriel protect me." Drasina whispered, just as the Axe was to fall on her.

 

 

But instead of waking in the presence of Auriel, she woke in a room, on a bed, and in a dress she did not recognize. She didn't remember much, nothing but the reminence of a dream, a dragon swooping down and destroying the whole town. Part of her wondered if it were true, but dragons were but mere stories, only a legend of the children that betrayed Auriel.

"You're awake, I suppose we were never really introduced. My name is Ralof." A man familiar to Drasina came around the corner, instead of the blue colours of his armour, he had on a basic cloth shirt and trousers, his arm bandaged, like hers.

"My name is Drasina, can you please tell me where I am and what happened?" She asked, running her hand through her tousled hair and gently sitting up, careful of the dull ache of her muscles. He sat in a chair, a few feet from the bed.

"Well what do you remember?" He asked her, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

She took a moment, thinking hard about what happened, "I was about to be beheaded, but I don't remember feeling my head get cut off, and I am glad to see that it wasn't." She chuckled a little, "But then that's it. I had an awful dream that a dragon was the reason I wasn't murdered. It swooped down and blasted everyone back and then fire fell like rain from the sky. That man, the one with us in the prisoner cart helped me to my feet and we tried to make a run for it, but then I woke up here." She lighthearted chuckle was quickly replaced with the fear of the dragon in her eyes. Ralof had nothing but sympathy for her.

"I wish I could tell you that was a dream." He spoke softly, staring at his own bare feet. Her eyes widened and she adjusted herself.

"You mean to tell me I didn't dream that?" She asked, tears almost welling in her eyes, he looked at her with the most exhaustion she had ever seen in a man before, he nodded slowly.

"When we tried to run up the tower, It blasted through the wall. Stone flew back and one large piece hit your forehead, you were out so fast, I don't even think you felt me haul you over my shoulder. We barely made it out alive." His voice was grim, but he was relieved that it was over for the moment. She felt nothing but appreciative.

"You saved my life." She whispered and he looked at her. "I appreciate, with more certainty than i've ever had in my life. But why? As a child I heard about how much the nords disliked elves but I don't that to be true now." Her eyes were lit up, knowing the only reason she could continue her journey was because of him.

"You spit on the shoes of that Imperial Captain. I think all of the Stormcloaks soldiers grew some respect for you. Ulfric also helped you onto my shoulders, he instructed I try my damnedest to get you out in one piece, dead or alive." He was grinning, about how disgusted that captain looked.

"That imperial wench called me a Wood Elf. Kin or not it is an insult, I am far too pale, and far too tall. I didn't spend my whole life learning and preparing to come here to be called a Wood Elf." She grumbled, Ralof chuckled.

"Well she won't be making that false assumption any further, she was killed on the way out of helgen." He explained and Drasina smiled. Though she may have not felt Auriel's wrath, her death was payment enough.

"And what of that man, Ulfric you called him?" She would be lying if she said she wasn't thankful for him too.

"Most likely on his way to Windhelm, the hold he rules over. You should think about enlisting, you got a fire in you that us stormcloaks like, sure could use it to burn some imperials." He chuckled. She smiled.

"I just might."

 

 

Drasina used a healing spell on herself, to relieve the burn wounds and muscle aches. When she was finished she helped out Ralof too, as thanks for saving her life. It wasn't the only think she'd do in return, but it was a start. Grelod, Ralof's sister made everyone a meal and became acquainted with Drasina. "We have a favour to ask, and we wouldn't be asking it if it weren't important." Grelod began.

"Don't be preposterous! You've done so much for me, name it." She smiled at Grelod and her family.

"Ralof isn't very welcome here, and we need to keep him safe for the time being, so we would like you to go to Whiterun and tell the Jarl about the dragon. Riverwood needs more troops if we were to begin to stand a chance to a dragon." She looked panicked, but Drasina wasn't about to say no.

"I will leave as soon as I'm ready." She grinned, showing her teeth and Grelod looked relieved.

"Thank you, riverwood will be in your debt."

 

Ralof helped her prepare for her walk to the city. It wasn't very far but there were wolves along the way, and without a sword or some decent armour she wouldn't make it all the way there. Grelod had some scaled armour gifted to her on her birthday by the blacksmith. Grelod could barely swing a wood cutter's axe, so she didn't understand quite understand what she would do with armour, so she gave it to Drasina. It was very nordic, but fit her well. "I looks great on you. You might as well keep it, I won't ever need it." Grelod chuckled.

"You're too kind." Drasina thanked her once again. Ralof gave her a sword, it was steel with faint imperial markings, he tried his best to grind them out.

"It's an ugly blade, but it's sharper than a Khajiit's tongue." Ralof assured, Drasina laughed.

"I will never forget this. Your hospitality will not go unnoticed and when I find my belongings, I will be sure to pay you back." She hugged them all good-bye and prayed that Auriel watched over them and kept them safe. It didn't take her long to leave the town and find the path. The wolves along the way were also quite easy to discard, but that was the least of her worries, right now, there was a dragon on the loose, and she wanted to know why.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. First of Many Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drasina is sent on the beginning of her journey, and thinks of the man she would like to see again.

Image URL: <http://goo.gl/FkfVXf>

 

 

The weather surprised Drasina, she prefered the cold but she also didn't mind it when the sun warmed her skin in contrast to the cool breeze. It was warm in Alinor all the time, but since she lived on the coast her whole life, the heat was humid and it made her tired. She was glad to be somewhere where she felt alive. Her time in skyrim might not have been enjoyable so far, but it was better than hiding in the Summerset Isle.   
  
After the wolves and the odd rodent, the path to whiterun was calm. She enjoyed watching the wildlife in the tree and the wolf pups running with their mother, hunting the wild elk. She loved to hunt, in Alinor her father taught her to hunt with a bow and then properly dress the animal. Her mother taught her how to cook it. Skyrim already felt like home, and should she ever find the temple her ancestors inhabited, she would bring her family back here. This is where her roots began, and she intended for them to continue here.  
  
  
  
Drasina found the excitement of this province already extraordinary, as she helped a group of warriors take down a Giant! "By Auriel that thing was huge!" She nearly shouted out of pure adrenaline. If she were by herself she would have died, but these fine men and women were well skilled and the giant didn't stand a chance.   
  
"New to skyrim, eh?" A nord man, tall and large with dark hair and beard.  
  
"Yes, where I'm from we don't have these." She replied with a surprised chuckle, she stepped onto the giant's chest, staring at it's dead face. "An ugly thing aren't you?" She said to it, "How's a thing like that even come to be? Surely they have a purpose in the Gods eyes." She asked them, the men and women shrugged.  
  
"They don't do anything but ruin crops and steal livestock. I have yet to see a higher purpose for their existence." A nord woman with face paint and revealing armour chuckled. This made Drasina smile.  
  
"Well they seem like some fun to kill. It was lovely being acquainted with you all, but I must be going." She bid them all goodbye, and in return they all encouraged that she join their ranks in the companions if she were up to it, and if she didn't have too much on her plate at the moment, she would have.  
  
  
  
Whiterun was a buzzing city, with shopkeepers calling for business, and market stalls selling jewelry and produce. Drasina couldn't help but smile at the playing children and the men and women conversing and laughing about. She also couldn't help but glare at the man in Imperial uniform. She would have given him a piece of her mind if she didn't have more important things to do. She asked a passing guard how to see the Jarl, as she had news about the Dragon attack in Helgen. He directed her to Dragonsreach, the tall palace at the top of Whiterun. In Alinor she'd seen an abundance of Elven palaces, but none of them were like Nordic places like this. They were quite large, but not nearly as elegant. But she noticed the nords didn't quite care for tapestry and fancy things, no it seemed as long as it were gold it was fancy enough.   
  
  
  
In the palace, she was stopped by a dark elf, who was rather demanding, "The guards shouldn't have let you in here, speak." The dunmer growled. Drasina had her hand hovering over sword, glaring at the woman.  
  
"I have news about Helgen, I was instructed to come straight to the Jarl." She answered, and the Dunmer sheathed her weapon.  
  
"I supposed that would be why the guards let you in here then. Come along." The dark Elf's tone changed, and Drasina was led to the throne, and introduced to the Jarl himself. Jarl Balgruuf was not as demanding at the Dark elf, no he was quite calm. Drasina explained what happened in Helgen, how the dragon made it's appearance as she was about to be beheaded by the Imperials.   
  
The Jarl was an understanding man, he ignored her whole ordeal about the Imperial imprisonment, and rewarded her. "Though I have to ask." He spoke softly.  
  
"Of course Jarl Balgruuf."  
  
"You are not from Skyrim I can tell, as you are an elf, but you are like any kind of elf I have met." He was currently taking her to his court wizard,as he may have a task for her in which may help for information about this dragon matter.  
  
"Oh, No, my kind is rare, I am-"  
  
"By Shor! A Snow Elf!" Said a tall nord, interrupting Drasina in his own amazement. He quickly made his way to her shaking her hand going on about the rumours he has heard about a snow elf in the Province. He was glad to see those rumours to be true.

 

“I brought her heal to help you with your dealings in the dragon matter. Fill her in, she can be of help.” He instructed to the excited wizard, the jarl then turned to Drasina, “it is an honour to have you in my hold. Good Luck.” He smiled softly before leaving room. Farengar was so very excited to be working with a snow elf, and had many questions for her, but Drasina didn’t want to stand idle, she has a quest complete, and would like to get to it.

 

“A Snow Elf.. Wow! I am Farengar, the Jarl’s court wizard. I have so many questions, if you would oblige.” He smiled widely, offering her a chair in his office.

 

“I would love to answer your questions, but perhaps another time, there is a dragon messing about and I would love to know why.” She tried her very best not to sound rude, and she succeeded when Farengar responded with a respectful smile.

 

“Of course..”

  
  


The wizard was very helpful, telling her where to go and what exactly she was retrieving. He was also very knowledgeable when it came to dragons. She had all the questions of a scholar, being the inquisitive person she is. Farengar answered those questions as well. 

 

Bleak Falls Barrow sounded grim, and the way there was just along the base of one of many mountains in skyrim, making the journey cold, not that it bothered Drasina. Before she left she used what little coin she was given by Grelod to purchase some dried fruit and meat for the walk. Healing potions were not needed, as she was very skilled in restoration and other aspects of magic. By nightfall, she found a small tower, built not a few miles from the barrow itself. 

 

“Don’t take another step.” A small female, in furs and armour, unsheathed her weapon at the elf, “I’m giving you a chance to walk away alive.” The woman's voice was high pitched with a faint sign of maturity, but this girl was barely a woman. Drasina didn’t want to do anything irrational.

 

“I don’t mean to cause trouble, just need a place to camp is all.” Drasina kept one arm over her sword, and the other raised defensively in the air. 

 

“This spot it taken, now beat it! Don’t make me tell you again.” The small woman made threats and it angered the Snow Elf. She wasn’t one to enjoy taking another person’s life, and she’d only done it if it were necessary, she has only ever killed a small number of times in order to protect her family from bandits or mercenaries, and she found herself drowning her guilt in a bottle of Colovian Brandy after each time. 

 

“Fine then, I’ll be on my way then.” She backed away carefully, and when her back was finally turned, an arrow stopped her in her tracks. It had landed just before her feet, and that's when she turned around. “I turned away, I left you alone! This is how you honour an agreement?” She shouted, making her way back toward the tower. The small woman was charging at Drasina with quick feet, but she lost her footing in the deep snow. She drew her dagger quick slicing at Drasina’s feet, though Drasina was quicker, stepping on her hand and crushing the small hand under her boot. She grabbed the woman by her hair and pulled her up. “I will spare your life as long as you behave.” She growled. 

 

“You picked a bad time to get lost, friend.” A low dark voice growled behind the sheet of falling snow. It was an orc, who had it’s battle axe drawn in both hands. “Let her go and I’ll make your death quick.” He growled.

 

“I don’t think that will happen.” Drasina glared, making the orc growl and charge, but his swing was blocked with the body of the breton woman in the hands of the snow elf. She reached for the dagger while the Orc stood shocked over what he had done, “Her life could have been spared, but you decided to be daft.” Drasina barked. The orc saw red, immediately trying to swing at Drasina again, but Drasina was quicker, throwing the dagger and hearing it make contact with the Orc’s eye. He fell immediately. Drasina felt guilty immediately.  _ They were probably friends,  _ she thought,  _ or even lovers, my god what have I done?  _ She did what she could not to cry, and hobbled herself into the tower, the wind was completely blocked from the cold wind, and on the inside a small fire was crackling away, with two large heirs roasting away. If Drasina hadn’t been so damn sad, she would have been laughing at the convenience. She new her blubbering was a little silly, since those two were bandits, or at least some sort of criminal.. No random hunters would threaten another person’s life for no reason, or at least she hoped. 

  
  


It was a cold winter's night in Windhelm as well, and Ulfric was glad to be back at his jarl’s throne with his trusted housecarl slash best friend babbling on about the war in his ear. Galmar wasn’t even in the least concerned about the dragon attack, he thinks it’s Talos getting pissed off at the lot of them for not defending Skyrim properly, but he thinks he’s found a way to prove the Stormcloak position with something called the Jagged crown, the most powerful leaders in Skyrim wore this crown up until it was buried with it’s last owner in an unknown tomb. Galmar thinks he’s found it.

 

Ulfric wasn’t in the slightest bit interested. No, as much as he couldn’t help it, he was thinking about the unconscious elf strewn over Ralof’s shoulders, about to take her last breath. He couldn’t believe this woman had taken over his thoughts, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about the chill she gave him. It was rare to see an Elf with dark hair, but hers was black, and evenly cut just past her shoulders in large loose waves and bangs cut over her forehead, framing her face. She was so elegant and untouched by the harshness of skyrim. Her skin was so pale, like she hadn’t ever seen the sun, and it was even lighter in contrast to her hair. Her eyes were nothing like he had seen before; as blue as a pure crystal spring he had seen once near falkreath, and cool grey ring just around her pupil. By the gods, he hadn’t even realised he was looking into her eyes that long. 

 

“Are you even listening?” Galmar threw his tankard at the Jarl’s feet, and Ulfric jumped, quickly clearing his throat.

 

“What? Uh no.. well some of it. Galmar, I’ve heard you talk about this damn crown for nearly two days now, give it a rest. Is it even worth the manpower? We are short men as it is. We’ve risked too many lives and made little no progress. I was results Galmar.” Ulfric was rubbing his face annoyed with this crown and annoyed with his thoughts; because as quickly as he was done speaking, he was already thinking of her once again.

 

“Trust me it’s worth it.” 

 

“If you say so.” Ulfric grumbled, rising from his throne and dreading the walk to his chambers. He knew she would be in his dreams as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  
  


Drasina however was now laying back in a cot, and picking the meat out of her teeth with a rabbit bone, staring up at the sky through a crack in the roof and catching just a glimpse of one of the moons. Her thoughts finally drifted from her victims, convincing herself they deserved it long enough for sleep to catch up to her. In the meantime she thought about Helgen and what she could remember. Waking up on a prison cart the morning after the ambush didn’t bother her, but waking up in an entirely new outfit did. They stripped her of all her belongings and treated her like dirt; she didn’t even begin to think about what they might have done while she was knocked out and in nothing but undergarments. She thought about waking up against the shoulder of the Important man, she now knows to be called Ulfric, the Jarl of Windhelm. But Auriel be damned if she wasn’t handsome. 

 

In Alinor she wasn’t often allowed to leave her hidden home on the coast, and the Elves she did get to meet her Thalmor Agents willing to play her father bags upon bags of gold her marry her. The thalmor were not an honourable people, they treated her family with no respect and when they thought she wasn’t listening, they made the most vulgar comments about Drasina and her sisters. Drasina’s father wanted nothing but the best for his family, and when her sister wanted to marry, Drasina wanted to explore. She went to the buzzing cities and met merchants from all over. Her favourites were the nord and imperial travelers. She found them to be humorous and charismatic, lively and handsome compared to the stuck up elves she could choose from. She found that nord Jarl the most handsome she’d seen in her life so far. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ulfric and Drasina will meet again soon, I promise... The next one will have some action!  
> Thanks for reading and don't be shy to leave a comment about what you think! Constructive criticism helps me become a better writer to produce something everyone will love :P


	4. No pleasure in Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drasina makes it to Bleak Falls Barrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there are any grammar/spelling mistakes I do apologise, I will eventually go back and edit/revise, I just want this fanfic to get somewhere first!

Bleak Falls barrow was a dark a twisted place. It is home to the undead and nordic inscriptions dating back to the dragon crisis, when man’s enemy were the dragons, and when the mer were their allies. Bleak Falls Barrow is not the only burial ground for the punished undead, but it is one that is home to Bandits and scavengers, skeevers and spiders, Draugr and Skeletons, all things that do not care what side of the war you are on, if you breath they attack. It’s as simple as that.

 

Drasina thought she knew all these things. She was horribly mistaken at the sight of how many bandits guarded the entrance. She was merely few feet away from the intimidating steps, counting how many men she could sneak past and how many she needed to discreetly discard before entering the barrow. 

 

She could hear Helena; her sister nagging in her ear, ‘ _ Drasina are you daft? Turn back! You’ll die!’.  _ Drasina almost listened. But then she took a deep breath, and listened to the voice that got her to skyrim in the first place. Her father’s,  _ ‘I trained you well daughter, do not put your skill to waste’. _ Though it made her over confident. 

 

She stood proud, drawing her sword and forgetting about her fears. All of the bandits were immediately alarmed by the fast approaching Snow Elf, armed and appearing dangerous. But they were not scarred. They stood ready, and one volunteered to lay the elf to waste. The large Nord thrashed his own steel against hers, the others watched, “You picked a bad time to get lost, friend,” He chuckled lowly while she struggled to match his strength, but what she couldn’t make up in strength, she could in speed. When he lunged forward she spun out of the way and faced his back, catching the opportunity to plunge her sword into his back, and the nord fell off her sword onto his stomach, bleeding out in the snow. She felt like it was slow motion, but as quickly as he perished, she was already crashing swords with the next criminal. 

 

Well into her second fight, another joined. They tested her speed as her sword arm volleyed between men. Finally, they both jumped at her and she ducked to the snow, kicking their feet out from under them. Her adrenaline pumped hard, igniting her to her feet before they fell, and when they did their throats were slit with one swipe of her glimmering steel. She whirled around watching the last three bandits, her heart pumping faster and faster. “Who’s next?!” She roared at the two men and one woman. “No takers?” Her heart slowed and she lowered her sword. “Get going.” She spat at them and the woman fled, the men still stood in their spots. The breton male remained expressionless.

 

“T-that was my brother.” He mumbled.

 

Drasina froze and guilt immediately flushed through her. Her lips parted as her breath escaped her, disappearing in a cold steam. She looked at her sword and the blood stained it, from the tip of the blade to her pale knuckles gripping her sword. She couldn’t find the words to apologise.  _ Criminals Drasina, you did the right thing!  _ **_Oblivion is going to love you, you murderer!_ **

 

Her mind was spinning out of control and going every which way stuck between justice and guilt, she almost didn’t notice the sword coming toward her abdominal. With a squeal she just barely jumped out of the way to look up at the angry Breton. He was quick, and she couldn’t seem to gather her wits about her, only jumping and dodging out of the way to avoid injury, or worse, death. She had no adrenaline left, her guilt had over taken her and it was only the beginning. How did she expect to get through this without killing? 

 

The breton saw red and wasn’t about to stop, her only chance was to make it to the bow and quiver leaning against the stone pillar some distance away, and the Redguard who used to be as stunned as the breton, was fast approaching it. Her feet carried her quicker, and she drove for the bow clutching both the bow and quicker in her arms and rolling to her feet to keep running. Her fingers worked fast. She rested a single arrow along the base of the lower limb and pulled back. She released as the breton was right in front of her and as his sword came crashing down, her arrow pierced his eye. His sword never made contact with her skin, and he fell at her feet. The arrow had went right through his skull. The Redguard didn’t stick around to meet the same fate.

  
Her breathing was still rapid as she slid down the entrance to the barrow. She felt like crying. Her chest hurt to the point of panic. All she could do was look at her victims and their blood staining the snow.  **_You’re a murderer, own it._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today!! I feel like my work is failing a little, but I promise the chapter when Drasina and ulfric finally meet again will be super good, so hang in there! Dont forget to comment what you think, even if you hate it, to me all critisism is helpful lol. Love you all!


	5. Clear and Clouded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of ulfric in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not done any edits/revisions, I apologize for any mistakes.

Ulfric couldn’t help but wonder, and his curiosity had him sending out Stormcloak spies about the Snow Elf. He was surprised to hear about her work for Jarl Balgruuf, he didn’t hear anymore until Ralof arrived. Ralof explained that she went to send word about the dragons and then never returned to Riverwood. Ulfric imagined she continued onto doing what she came to skyrim to do. He didn’t know why she was in the province, but he was willing to find out. 

 

“You are wasting valuable resources to find an Elf? Is she working for the thalmor? What is so important about this mer?” Galmor inquired. He was more upset of the fact that he wasn’t barely paying attention to the war.. No instead he sat in his throne and day dreamed.

 

“She could be worth something. She is possibly the last Snow elf, in their glory days they prospered and had unexplainable power. I have a good feeling that the snow elf power could be used to win this war.” Ulfric wasn’t making it up completely, but  he was certain that her ‘secret powers’ weren't the only reason that he was keeping tabs on her.  He thought it were absolutely ridiculous that this woman had become apart of his thoughts almost every moment of every day, but he just couldn't help himself. It made him feel young again. 

 

Of course his whole court noticed a lighter air around the throne, opposed to the intensity of war strategy and yelling. Though Galmar preferred it. Lists were completed and progress was made when everyone was participating.

  
  
  
  


While Ulfric's mind was clouded and unfocused, Drasina’s thoughts couldn't be clearer. She knew exactly what had to be done in order to continue. She had to  **_own it_ ** .  _ I am a warrior _ , she thought to herself. She stood up to four bandits and they all fell by her sword. That's four less bandits to raid caravans or murder the innocent. the gods smile at courage and valor, and guilty as she felt, she demonstrated both. 

 

“I am a warrior. If they were not meant to fall by my blade Auriel would have made it so.” she assured, wiping the few years that fell from her eyes. Her faith in Auriel never ceased. “Gods protect me.”

 

The new bow in her hands proved useful as more bandits, man and woman, guarded the entrance further into the barrow. These ones weren't quite as alert, she was quickly able to draw back an arrow and release it, sending it through the skull of the man. Before the woman could even react, Drasina had another arrow drawn, through this one through the neck, severing both main arteries. It was a bloody mess. 

 

Drasina advanced on, know the longer she even blinked at the bodies she would most likely puke. Instead of thinking she kept her mind clear and set on her goal. The little sarcophagus urns had ash of the dead, and a few septims for the taking. She wasn't sure if it were considered grave robbing, but the side of her conscience that kept her morals in tune was temporarily tuned out. 

 

She watched the next bandit kill himself getting caught in a trap. He didn't notice the small holes on either side of the gate. There must be a key. The room she found herself was a little further in the barrow, but it has three pillars, currently all showing a picture of a snake. On the walls there were three stone hieroglyphic pictures, and in right to left order it revealed the answer to opening the door. Drasina walked to the last pillar and rotated to reveal a fish. 

 

When she pulled the lever, the gate opened. Triumph filled her expression, but she had no confidence that it was about to get any easier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment what you think! (*˘︶˘*)


	6. Many Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Auriel had many plans for Drasina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This kind of short and im sorry.

Farengar Secret-Fire had a visitor when Drasina arrived. They were discussing dragons and other matters and the Snow Elf didn't quite understand. So she waited patiently, moving her fingers over this Dragon stone tablet, recognizing the strange symbols that were on an encrypting wall in the barrow. Her eyes still stung as they blinded her, burning itself into her mind. It's almost as if the words were on her tongue, trying to force itself into the air.. it just couldn't quite make it out. 

 

“It seems we have a visitor,” the woman speaking with the court wizard nudged her head in the direction of the Snow Elf. Drasina tried to make out her features, but her face was hidden by the leather hood on her head.

 

“Huh, what?” He looked up, “Oh yes! This is the woman the Jarl sent to me. She retrieved the Dragon stone Tablet.” he spoke rather proud as he approached the elf. Drasina handed it to him.

 

“So, now what?” Drasina asked, following him to the table, trying to see what they were discussing so indefinitely about. He quickly closed his books.

 

“This is where your jobs ends and mine begins. I'm sure the Jarl has your reward. It wa-”

 

The Dark Elf, Irileth, came rushing into the court wizards office, “Farengar, you have to come quick, a Dragon has been spotted at the watch tower!” the housecarl was panicked and out of breath. She looked at Drasina, “you should come too.” 

 

The three of them, and the guard with the report, all rushed to the upper lever on the Palace. Farengar was rambling, question after question, yet no one had an answer. Drasina’s mind was spinning. She thought her errand running would be over, but it felt as if these dragons were quickly becoming her problem.  _ Could I even fight a Dragon? _ She asked herself. The draugr gave her a hard fight, some having magic powers, their fire just skimming her skin. The rest of her energy had been spent battling that undead holding the tablet. It burst out of its tomb the moment she regained her sight from those burning symbols. The way it fought was almost as if it had half its brain. 

 

The Jarl looked frightened. He listened to the guard tell about the dragon attack, and then instructed that irileth takes a group of men to the watch tower. Drasina became rather alarmed when he turned to her, “You have done Whiterun a service, and I give you this gift from my personal armoury as a token of our appreciation. But need to ask you one more favour. Our resources are stretched thin as it is with the war raging on, so need you at the watch tower. Whiterun needs your help.”

 

_ By Auriel when will this day end..  _ Drasina wanted cry. She wanted to yell! But she didn't, “of course Jarl Balgruuf.” she nodded and followed Irileth out.

 

_ By the gods.. what in oblivion was i thinking? I can’t fight a dragon! I was nearly killed by the last one.  _

 

The whole time Irileth was preparing her men, Drasina contemplated how she was going to die in the next few hours. But then her father's voice filled her mind.  **I did not raise a coward! You are a superiorly bred warrior!** Drasina almost laughed, but she was to focused on her predicament. 

 

“Let's go get a dragon!”

  
  
  


Upon arriving at the watch tower, it was completely destroyed, and all of Drasinsla’s haunting memories of helgen came rushing back. Before any of them knew what was happening, the scaled beast came flying in faster than a bullet, picking up a guard and tossing him away. 

Time was slowed. Lightning flew from Irileth’s fingers, and drasina readied her bow, following the dragon and firing. The arrow flew into the dragon's eye, but it did nothing to stop it. It’s fiery breath rained on them, the flames burning the dry grass beneath their feet, chasing Drasina into the broken tower. Her quiver was almost empty.  She climbed the tower and lined up her arrow with the dragon’s good eye. But she missed, instead she got its attention. She made it for the stairs and jumped as it shouted fire at her. She made it to the bottom of the tower and put as the flames followed her out. 

 

“AIM FOR ITS GOOD EYE MEN, IT HAS TO LAND IF IT CAN’T SEE!” Irileth cried out over the screech of the Dragon. Drasina had one arrow left. 

 

“By the gods I hope she's right.” The snow elf shot her arrow. Hitting its good eye. The Dragon yelped, falling to the ground. It still breathed its fire at the guards and three of them were burnt to a crisp. 

 

_ It's can't see you coming, go for it!  _

 

The courageous voice in Drasina’s head sounded ten times louder than the dragon's cry. It made her draw her sword. It made her take quick steps toward the Dragon. It clamped its large jaw onto the body of a guard, and Drasina jumped onto its wing. It shook and flapped its wing, in attempt to shake the darring elf off its self, but to no succession. 

 

Drasina worked quickly, running up its neck and finally plunging her sword into its head. The others slashed their weapons at its gut and put holes in its wings. The scaled beast screamed and flailed as Drasina’s steel twisted in its head. 

 

And then it was all over. The dragon's scales began to burn and gather into an.. essence. Everyone backed away. The essence wrapped around Drasina and was absorbed inside her. 

 

“By shor,” the speaking guard removed his helmet, “You are dragonborn!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Ulfric Stormcloak had just began to eat his evening meal, discussing more details of the war, but was interrupted by the door to his palace being pushed open. 

 

“My jarl, that woman.. the elf.” he was breathing heavily, as if he’d just ran for his life. 

 

“What about her, spit it out boy.” he commanded. 

 

“I just came from whiterun, and she’s been named thane by Jarl Balgruuf, because she helped kill a dragon.” 

 

“That could make it difficult for her to join are side.” Galmar spoke up.

 

“Galmar is right. Did you find out anything else?” Ulfric was trying not to be taken away by the fact that she killed a dragon. This woman was full of surprises. 

 

“Aye Milord. The last Snow Elf, she is the dragonborn.”

 

Ulfric stormcloak dropped his fork.

 

Full of surprises indeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am happy with the idea of this chapter, but am kind of mad at myself for the quality. Next chapter will be the meeting between ulfric and Drasina... 
> 
> Side note, i wrote this on my phone again, so apologies for any grammar/spelling mistakes. My revision period will be after the next chapter. Thanks for reading and don't forget to comment what you think!


	7. Companionship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drasina gets a letter

 

Art not mine, link to illustrator: <https://goo.gl/Qc3iNp>

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“My thane,” Lydia began, resting her hands on her knees, breathing heavily. “We have been training for more than enough time, perhaps we should stop for a meal.” 

 

Drasina didn’t want to stop, because if she did, her tiredness would hit her like stone wall and she would have to sleep. Sleep brought dreams. Dreams of her standing on the head of a dragon skull, and thousands of dead men scattering the battlefield. Men that all fell by her sword. She would only hear a whistle of the wind, and in the distance, women and children weeping at the sight in front of them. A child would approach her, and in a voice so weak he would speak, ‘you were supposed to be a hero.’ his voice would crack, and in his eyes she could see the endless pit of despair, and her blood stained reflection. 

 

‘You are a murderer.’ 

 

“-My thane?” 

 

Without realising it, Drasina had closed her eyes, seeing the recurring dream. Her newly named housecarl startled her to reality. 

 

“Go rest Lydia. I can continue on my own.” Drasina swallowed away her guilty tears and began to train on her own, but Lydia saw her pain. The housecarl was no stranger to the veil hiding the regret. This was common in the beginning of every warrior. 

 

“Sleeping gets easier you know.” the housecarl spoke softly, yet Drasina flinched, looking at Lydia. 

 

“Pardon me?” 

 

“Sleeping gets easier, I know you are restless. Anyone with eyes could see it in your face. Best advice I could give to you is don’t travel alone. Someone you can voice your grievances to.” Lydia sheathed her sword. 

 

“How long have you fought for?” asked the snow elf, also holstering her weapon.

 

“Been fighting since I could walk, but I didn’t kill until I turned fifteen. My family was trying to move, we had a whole wagon full of our belongings. A group of bandits decided they wanted it. My brother and I were willing to protect my parents. My mother was small, weak, and my father blind. One man pushed my father out of the wagon and I lost all control. Before I knew it every bandit was dead or fleeing. I was covering in blood, and all I remember after was scrubbing at my skin so hard, my mother had to tear the brush from my hands”

 

The woman were sitting on the grass covered ground, just near a stream outside of whiterun. What was once a few long hours of training, turning into the exchange of battle stories. 

 

“Some nights I still dream of it, but it doesn’t bother me like it used to.” lydia finished. 

 

“I’m not sure I could ever get over such a thing. I killed the first time after my father was murdered. The Thalmor were supposed to investigate, but instead one courted my sister and the other recruited my brother. When  _ I _ found out who did it, I swore that by my hand he will feel the pain of death. When he was in my village again, i burned him in the middle of our town circle. He screamed in a pain I knew he deserved. And in the moment I  _ enjoyed  _ it. But I will never unsee the looks on the faces of the people around. They were terrified;  but they watched. No one raced for a water bucket or a wet towel. And when the man was finally burnt to a crisp, the children screamed. That was the only thing I heard for months, and I swore to never take a life again. 

 

But, like you, the instincts kick in and i hear my father yelling at me; ‘I did not raise a coward’ ‘I trained you, do not be weak’. I obey, and when it's over I’m thinking of those I hurt by killing. It’s not so much the victim I care for, but the family. It hurt so greatly when my father was killed, I wouldn’t wish such a pain on anyone.” 

 

Lydia listened closely to Drasina, letting her tell her tragedy. Every warrior has demons and it shows in Drasina. Her heart is too open, too caring. She thinks too much.  She needed to start acting like a warrior if she was going to be one. 

 

Find your objective, complete it, move on. Lydia lived by that instruction, otherwise she would be exactly where Drasina is right now. 

 

"You think too much. Feeling guilty in the beginning is just fine, but if you let it the guilt will build it will eat you alive.” Lydia explained, and Drasina already didn't believe her. But she was willing to listen.

 

“Will you help me?” she asked Lydia.

 

“Of course my thane.”

  
  
  
  


The pair traveled to Ivarstead, clearing out bandit camps on the way. They killed quick and efficient, Lydia didn't allow Drasina to stop and think. They moved on as fast as they cleared out the criminals.

 

In Ivarstead many recognised her as the snow elf rumoured to be adventuring skyrim, the guards were especially interested. Often times she heard then referring to her as ‘the one he’s wasting spies on’.  _ I wonder who ‘he’ is.  _

  
  


Inside the inn, the two stopped for rest; the sun was setting by the time they arrived in Ivarstead. The aroma of spiced mead and cooked food filled their noses; both let out an audible groan. “take a seat by the fire and someone will help you.”

The innkeeper smiled at the women and then went back to counting his coin. 

 

“this inn gets a lot of pilgrims, all just on their way to the manosary.” Lydia said to Drasina, who nodded I'm reply. She doubted they would be alone on their hike to the Greybeards, a group Drasina still knows little about. 

 

The women sat at a table near the fire, facing the flames and waiting for the barmaid to ask them what they required. Drasina wouldn't have minded a pint or two, something to wash away the awful taste killing left in her mouth. And Lydia, like any true more, had  mead in her water canister. ‘Makes me a little friendlier’, she’d explain. 

 

“when do you suppose we should be off?” Drasina asked. I'm Alinor the days were long, in Skyrim the sun set early.

 

“Sunrise. The wildlife will be more idle before the sun has a chance to warm everything. We’d do best to be halfway there before the wolves are too active.”

 

Just then a woman, in stormcloak cuirass stepped into the inn, she took off her helmet and looked around, then directed her gaze to the snow elf. As a courier she knew exactly who that woman was. Her steps were quick to the snow elf and her thane, and she uninvitedly Sat herself next to Lydia. 

 

“So you’re the woman we've been chasing about. Jarl ulfric might have sent us through oblivion to find you if he needed.” Drasina could hear the woman's accent, native to that of a nord, but it didn't matter, Lydia was already questioning her presence.

 

“Pardon you, but we are having a private conversation.” lydia glared at the woman. 

 

“No Lydia let her speak, this could be important.” 

 

“I am sworn to carry your burdens.” Lydia rolled her eyes.

 

The courier spoke again, “Aye, important it is. Not sure I ever rode a horse so fast to catch up to you. It's no secret that you are Dragonborn, and Jarl ulfric has heard this news himself, and wishes to see you in person. Here is the invitation.” she reached into her satchel and handed the elf her letter. “y’mind sparing a few septims for a room? I'm beat.” 

 

“oh, of course. For the trouble I suppose.” Drasina reached into her pack, grabbing a handful of the septims she barely had and handed then to the courier. 

 

“thank you Dovahkiin. Safe travels.”

 

The courier bid farewell but the elf was not paying attention, instead she was focused on the letter.  _ Was he the man wasting spies on me?  _

 

**Drasina,**

 

**It has come to my attention that you status in skyrim is growing. I hear of your battles each day and I wish to discuss these tales with you. Please visit me in my palace in windhelm.**

 

**Safe travels,**

**Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak**

  
  


“I expected that to be more professional. Sounds like her just wants a drink.” Lydia said, reading over Drasina’s shoulder. 

  
“Then why do I have the feeling that this is going to be more than a pint and some story telling?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it will be Drasina ;) 
> 
> Okay so I'm very sorry for the slow update, school is a bummer but you can't really succeed without it. Anywho;  
> Grammar and spelling worries me. I know how to properly edit and revise, it just takes forever sometimes and I'm lazy, so that being said for the umpteenth time, I am sorry. Right now my Skyrim is broken and I like to play it in order to stay motivated in writing this, so the next update might be even longer. :( but if you like it tell me what you think, I'm on AO3 like everyday so hit me up :p 
> 
> Bye


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ok so Drasina FINALLY meets ulfric. Im so sorry this took so long. Btw if you have a name you would like to suggest for this chapter, fill free to share b/c i drew a blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im really sorry this took forever. But I am determined to finish!

 

( https://goo.gl/whkJnX)

  
  


The moment the sun rose the thane and housecarl were on their way to the Greybeards. They were the only ones with the goal of making it to the palace it seemed. Each pilgrim they passed camped in their spot, praying on the tablets and downing a few bottles of mead. Considering the situation, this made the snow elf inwardly chuckle.  _ Nords, such spiritual people.  _

 

Spirituality played more into the lives of the nords more than she could really understand. Lydia began to explain that the war began after the banning of talos. The thalmor claimed him to be just a man, not meant to be worshiped like a god. Growing up Drasina never knew of talos. She only followed Auriel, by her father’s wishes. The elven god was the only deity that was worthy of an elf’s worship, in her father’s words. She the nords depiction of Auriel was that he was the god of time, the god of gods, the only god without a humanoid form. Akatosh they called him. Truly Auriel and Akatosh were the same lord, just one depicted an elf lord, and the other depicted as a serpent. Like the ones terrorizing Skyrim.

 

“In my opinion this war is just two power hungry men trying to prove who’s got the bigger stones. It’s got nothing to do with winning for the people or Talos. It’s ulfric sick of the empire shoving their nose up the arse of your elven cousins. No offence.” Lydia rolled her eyes at the thought of the two sides fighting for false causes.

 

“I take no offence. The thalmor are a corrupt government. They hold no morals of values. Except for maybe the one married to my sister. But he still is as pig headed as the rest of them. He has my sister believing she is just meant to push out babes and cook his three meals. But love knows no bounds.” She too rolled her eyes. 

 

“Nirn is just full of problems.” Lydia chuckled.

  
  


The rest of the trek was exciting. The two fierce women took down a troll. Drasina almost puked when Lydia harvested the fat from it’s gut. She claimed it was a good fuel for fire. Drasina could guess why. It was completely oil based and smelled awful, she had no clue why lydia would keep that in her pack. 

The higher they got up the mountain, the more their breath was seen as vapour in the air, and the quicker it came and went, the altitude making it harder for them move quickly. The snow was finally set in on the mountain, creating poor visibility. But it didn’t stop the women. They hurried on, keeping as close to the mountain wall as possible. And soon enough, the Palace was in sight. They has made it to High Hrothgar, and Drasina’s fate as dragonborn was going to be decided. 

  
  
  


 

 

(this time skip is brought to you in part by my favourite v-day card. Gimme Cicero anytime and ill be a happy camper. )

  
  


The greybeards were more than surprised to see a snow elf as their new dragonborn. They were more than impressed when she demonstrated the Thu’um with no basic training or gifted power from them. She has never felt a rush like she did when she dashed her whirlwind sprint, knocking her imperial kidnapping into the dark. Lydia was also pleased. She was glad she was working for someone trustworthy and respectful to nord lore and legends. As much as it didn’t make sense for an elf to have a nord title, she fit the title well. The Gods chose her for the job, and who was lydia to question her deities?

 

The greybeards wanted Drasina to direct her loyalty to the way of the voice. So, they sent her for a horn, one that belonged to the man who started it all. He was the reason the way of the voice is a practice in the Greybeards. Nothing proves loyalty like returning something to where it truly belongs. But this was only the first of many adventures, and Drasina wasn’t sure everyone would be as accepting as lydia or the Greybeards. She needed allies, and Jarl Ulfric seemed with the best place to start. And he was already awaiting her arrival.

  
  
  


So the parading warriors set out for Windhelm. Lydia knew the way, as she has made that journey once or twice. Drasina kept her eyes on the objective, but she couldn’t help but wonder. 

 

“Have you met Jarl Ulfric before?” Drasina asked the taller woman, Lydia nodded.

 

“Some months ago I was in recruitment to be a Stormcloak. But the more I thought, the more I realized it was best not to be involved.” She answered. “Have you met the esteemed Jarl?” 

 

“Aye, he and I were on the same prison cart when the Imperials attacked. I ran into the stormcloaks and set camp. I figured it would keep bandits away. Then I knew nothing about wars and such happenings in skyrim, so I did not anticipate an attack. Ulfric seemed to care for his men, I am not entirely sure as to why he wasn’t in his jarl's palace, but it wasn’t any of my concern.” She answered. 

 

“So he was captured? I heard it rumored, but I didn’t really believe it myself.” 

 

“Aye, the general, uh, Tullius I remember his name as, had a group of high elves and angry short women in red armour. I knew they weren’t going to be my friends, but I didn’t expect them to send me to the block for no wrong doing. One of Ulfric’s soldiers helped my escape when the dragon attacked. Fortunately I was mostly unconscious for most of it, but I owe my life to those men, I wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for the Stormcloaks.” The snow elf still felt as if she arrived in skyrim yesterday. But it’s been nearly 12 days.

 

Lydia didn’t say anything more, not wanting to strike anymore haunting memories. The air between them was calm. Drasina couldn’t help but think about Ralof, and if he left Grelod and her family yet. If Drasina knew anything about soldiers, they could not sit idle for too long. Ralof would surely be on his feet by now. Drasina could begin to see the big snowy city in the distance, the big castle poking out behind stone walls. 

 

“Nord structures never cease to amaze me.” Drasina sighed of endearment. 

 

“Did they not have castles back in your homeland?” Lydia asked.

 

“Are you kidding? Every thalmor dignitary had a palace, or so it seemed. But elven architecture was, elegant, per-say. Nord structures however are hardy, strong, the representation of a warrior. Grueling work went into your castles, and they will continue to stand for hundreds of years. Elves rely on magic to keep their towers standing and eventually, their magic will run out.”

 

“You keep up your bubbling hatred for the thalmor and Ulfric might end up asking you to join his ranks.” Lydia chuckled. 

 

Drasina hadn’t realized what Lydia meant until she rehearsed what she said aloud. Every word she remarked on the high elves sounded annoyed, on the verge of anger. And the kind words about the nords sounded the complete opposite, nothing short of admiration. 

  
  
  


The city of windhelm was not as she expected. It was so.. Divided. The Bosmer stable master on the outside of the city sounded so friendly, and happy. On the inside the dunmer were angry, sad. And the nords were full of hate. This was not what she was expecting, but she felt daft for not. Ulfric was never a man well known for being kind to anyone but the nords, why would the nord citizens be any different. Drasina was most appalled by the nords accusing a Dunmer of being an imperial spy. 

 

"You come here where you're not wanted, you eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink and you refuse to help the  [ Stormcloaks ](http://www.uesp.net/wiki/Skyrim:Stormcloaks) ." One nord grumbled at the dunmer woman, looking to simply carry on her day.

 

"But we haven't taken a side because it's not our fight." Reasoned she, seeming to fight a losing battle.

 

"Hey, maybe the reason these gray-skins don't help in the war is because they're Imperial spies!" The other nord growled. Drasina couldn’t have been angered. This man was wearing rags for Auriel’s sake!

 

"Imperial spies? You can't be serious!" The Dunmer spat with a scoff. 

 

"Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy. We got ways of finding out what you really are." The first nord barked as the woman finally gave up and walked away. Before Lydia could stop the angry thane, drasina was already confronting the men.

 

“Listen here you good for nothing Nords! That woman was doing nothing wrong, simply trying to go about her day and what do you two do? Accuse her of being an  **Imperial spy** in a  **_Stormcloak ran_ ** city all because she doesn’t wish to fight in your war! DO YOU have any clue how absolutely ridiculous and stupid that sounds! You two are nothing but filth, and Sovngarde doesn’t accept filth. Filth belongs in Oblivion.” By the end of her rant the woman had the men backed against the wall off the inn, fire burning in her eyes.

 

“W-what do you know about Sovngarde, elf!?” The homeless man barked.

 

“I know it’s a place for heroes and men and women of Valor! Talos would be ashamed.” 

The nord reached for his dagger and Lydia finally stepped in, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She is a guest of Ulfric Stormcloak, the  **Dragonborn.**  I highly suggest you put that way.” She spoke harshly at the two men, coaxing them to think twice. Finally the homeless man dragged the other away. Drasina smirked in accomplishment. 

 

“This city really needs my help.” Drasina carried quick steps to the palace.

  
  
  


“Has there been any word on the Dragonborn’s arrival?” Ulfric asked his advisor. 

 

“No Jarl Ulfric, but I am sure she would send a swift reply.” Jorleif answered. Since he sent the letter all he could think about was whether or not she would want to see him again. Maybe the last time they met was too traumatic, perhaps she’s had a change in heart about the imperials, or she might just not be interested. 

 

“You are probably right.” He adjusted in his throne and slummed he head on his fist, waiting for something to happen. Maybe Galmar will find a lead on his crown..

 

“-Drasina you can’t just expect him to listen.” 

 

“If he wants me in any part of this war he will.” 

 

Two women entered the palace. One with the voice the Jarl couldn’t get out of his head, and another that seemed familiar, but it wasn’t important. He rose, with no thought of what to say or do, he just stood up. 

 

She stopped in front of him, smiling gently and bowing, “It’s an honor, Jarl Ulfric.” 

 

“Jarl Ulfric.” her companion bowed.

 

“Drasina Nallron, you’ve made quite the title for yourself. Welcome to my Palace.”

 

“I appreciate the invitation but I mustn't stay long. There is much that needs to be done, and well, so little time to do it.” she reference the the ‘title’ he was speaking of.

 

“I’ll have my Stewart show you and your companion to the guest quarters, we can speak on pressing matters at dinner, if you don’t mind.” Ulfric was holding his composure much better than he anticipated. 

 

The Dragonborn smiled again, “Delightful, until then.” 

 

Ulfric felt the corners of his mouth twitch up as his steward guided them away. “Until then.”  

There was that  _ Chill again.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got the cicero pic off pinterest if you are wondering, my begining pictures always have links to their sources. I ain't no art Thief..
> 
> Let me know if you liked this chapter!!!


	9. A message from the Author

I apologize for my inactivity. About 4 months ago my friend and I were in a car accident and I recovered, but Unfortunately my friend never did. She passed away from her injuries a few days after the crash. In that time I have completely put unimportant things in my life on hold, including AO3. Now that I am on the road to mental recovery, I am starting to get back into the things I love, writing being one of them. I hope to be posting actively soon. 

 

~AdoringAddcitions 


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